#the overlap of related events like this scares me all the time

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Sunday doodles

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw - about flashbacks and SA and little details of SA

Looking for: opinions but also just venting.

Call me Jaguar.

I don’t even know WHAT SOME OF MY TRIGGERS ARE!!! I LEGIT HAVE TO GUESS. I think certain things revolving around night time had triggered a certain somatic flashback before so I try to make sure to avoid what I think triggered me?

I haven’t had that particular flashback in awhile so maybe I can self trigger and see if it is what I think it is… I’m scared thinking about experiencing it again but I wanna see…

I can’t pin triggers at all. Never know where it comes from, some triggers are obvious like seeing abusers in person.

Some episodes I get idk what they are or if they’re just depressive/other episodes. Like I can get into intense depressive episodes that make me feel odd emotions I can’t describe. Idk where they come from or why they’re there. It’s like an intense sadness mixed with feeling dissociated and out of place, gross, in a way. Idk what this even is!

There are flashbacks I haven’t had in a long time and I’m really trying to figure out was it even a flashback? Why did they show up and why haven’t I seen them in a while? I was told it was a somatic one because of the SA hallucinations and how real they were on my body… the things I felt were obviously SA I thought someone was in bed with me but nobody was. One of those flashbacks was SA of vaginal somatic experiences…

…Was I triggered by thinking about the trauma memory from my childhood? Bc it was on my mind at the time the somatic flashback hit me and I was contemplating certain details from the memory…I typically avoid all memories even though they intrude on me.m but it had me thinking…

was I triggered by certain things revolving around night time? Bc I am avoiding those things atm in case it is. I think certain things about night time trigger me so I don’t go near it.

But I seem to have no experienced particular flashbacks in awhile?

I had to rearrange my room and do so many things differently at night to not feel so depressed or awful which has helped with bad episodes like that.

I really don’t know what these experiences even are. I don’t know how to label them. Or if it’s just a type of depression, Idk…

Hey Jaguar,

Please know that it's normal to not fully know what your triggers are. Sometimes our brains will recognize something as a threat that, on a conscious level, we aren't even aware of. While it can be helpful to try and figure out what your triggers are, self triggering is a dangerous way to go about this.

It's possible that the sudden onset of intense emotions could be an emotional flashback, which can be described as a rush of intense emotions related to a past traumatic event that occur without any visual memories or images. Alternatively, experiencing a flashback in which you can physically feel certain sensations related to the traumatic memory can be a somatic or sensory flashback. It's important to distinguish this from a hallucination because a hallucination is typically a perception of something that is not present in reality, while a flashback is a vivid and involuntary recollection of a past event or experience. There is some overlap, but I think that distinguishing flashbacks from hallucinations can be validating.

It's possible that things such as thinking about traumatic childhood memories or certain things about nighttime could've influenced being triggered at that time, but it's ultimately up to you to make that determination.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist can help explore your trauma in a safe and controlled setting, as well as navigate these flashbacks and collaborate with you to construct some healthy coping mechanisms that you can take with you along your healing journey. In the meantime, I do hope that I could help name some of your experiences, and please know that we're here for you if you need anything.

-Bun

[jonny-b-meowborn]

I've been having very weird and vivid dreams recently, not sure why

Today I had a dream about some new obscure horror game that suddenly became very popular. I don't remember any of the plot, but it was more of a visual novel or point and click or something like that, there was just very little interaction. It was made if very crudely drawn pixel art, kind of like a kid haunted by visions would draw, but made intentionally by a skilled adult. It was very messy, mostly black and red, you'd have a hard time figuring out what are you looking at exactly. It was very short, but very good and genuinely creepy. No jumpscares, but there was a lot of that creepy buildup where you're on edge thinking that something's gonna scream at you any second.

But the big thing was the ending. The last few minutes were just a slideshow, short film, releasing all that scary tension, still without jumpscares. It was very well made, and while still scary, it was more satisfying than just creepy. Again, I don't remember any specific events, I just remember it was good.

So good, actually, that uh. Apparently, and most players related to that, the ending was so good and satisfying, it made. Okay it made people cum. Like you're still scared, but the way the plot resolved was so well made, that people would literally cum during that last cutscene. There was nothing sexual in the game itself, it was about like, ghosts or demons and death and shit like that. Don't ask me

Also there was a weird overlap of this game fans and fans of the Spiderman 3, the one with Tobey Maguire and people would make mashups of scenes from that movie and sound from the game

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Fireworks Event - Victor

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Contains references to Night Dream Date and Fairytale Date (available in EN)

Previous section: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here 

Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:

Question 1: Having gone to the amusement park a number of times, which attraction was your favourite?

Option A: As compared to the attractions, the fountain left the deepest impression!

Option B: The float parade! I really want to participate in it again!

Option C: An attraction consisting of a rapid fall. [no footage found]

-

Question 2: Think about what the “perfect day” you clamour about every day looks like specifically.

Option A: For you to smile a little more.

Option B: To stick together with you.

--

[ PART ONE ]

As the day gradually darkens, tangerine light from the setting sun dyes the clouds crimson. Various coloured lights are illuminated within the carnival.

MC: What should we try as the final attraction...

In order to round up this day in the most perfect manner, I look at the guide map before me, in serious thought. 

Victor: Let’s go to this place.

A step faster than me, Victor takes my hand, moving forward without hesitation.

MC: This is...?

[ Option A: As compared to the attractions, the fountain left the deepest impression! ]

MC: The fountain plaza!

The glittering and translucent water droplets meld with the setting sun, casting a colourful brilliance. 

The scene before me is similar yet different, and it makes me recollect that trip to the amusement park I thought we had missed out on.

The shock that the amusement park had been rented out completely still lingers in my heart. 

Victor: The only person to feel so strongly about fountains would be you.

MC: Do you know the reason for that?

I smile as I look at Victor, watching as he sighs and folds his arms in front of his chest. 

Victor: Because we watched those fountains together. As compared to the fountains, what’s more important is the memories related to them. Things which carry memories are always more captivating than other objects.

MC: ...

I’m rendered speechless as Victor steals all my lines.

Seeing that my originally planned script is no longer of use, I can only nod blankly, letting my cheeks flush. 

Victor seems to be pleased with what he sees before him. He chuckles while shaking his head, returning his gaze to the fountains. 

The faraway water columns are reflected in my irides. They twirl elegantly in the air before falling, crashing against another rising column of water, creating rays of light.

Victor: I like more things now. 

Without warning, Victor speaks. 

MC: What?

Victor: Fountains, Shiba Inu dolls, and all sorts of miscellaneous items. From a certain point in time, I started liking more and more things. 

Memories from the past flash before my eyes. Those very trivial fragments string together like pearls, sparkling and dazzling.

MC: Isn’t that pretty good?

I tilt my head, leaning against his shoulder. 

Victor: It’s not bad. 

Victor lifts his hand naturally, encircling my waist gently.

Perhaps due to the ongoing parade, or visitors seizing of this chance to experience other attractions, there aren’t many people at the fountains. 

We monopolise the sunset and the gleaming reflections from the water, tranquil happiness entering my heart along with the rising water droplets.

As the final ray of light of sunset dips beneath the horizon, the fountain performance officially announces its end.

Walking towards another place, I suddenly realise that one question has been neglected.

--

[ Option B: The float parade! I really want to participate in it again! ]

I look at the bustling parade in front of me.

MC: The parade!

As dusk gradually sets in the amusement park, the lively performers and magnificent parade vehicles move forward together with the music. 

Along with the lights, the images before me overlap with my memories. 

MC: Victor, do you still remember the first time we visited the amusement park? Just like this time, we tried all sorts of attractions, and then watched the parade. 

Victor: Mm. I won't forget. 

MC: With this thought in mind, whether it’s the time we sat in the parade vehicle, or how we took the merry-go-round together today... I seem to have truly become a princess from a fairytale. 

Victor: Just that counts as being a princess?

MC: Eh? What counts as being a princess then?

Could Victor have an unexpectedly wise opinion on this topic?

I look at Victor, waiting for his response in anticipation.

Victor: The ability to handle governmental, state, and diplomatic affairs - these are the most fundamental...

MC: Wait, wait. I don’t think we’re talking about the same type of princess. 

As expected of a Victor-style response - in just a second, it can ruin the romantic atmosphere surrounding us.

MC: I’m referring to those in fairytales.

Victor: For example?

MC: Mm... 

MC: Beautiful dresses, elegant and dignified, able to eat delicious food and adorable snacks... 

MC: Most importantly, they their own Prince Charming!

Victor: That’s all?

After listening to my response, Victor chuckles softly.

MC: What’s wrong? Don’t look down on this “princess dream”, okay? This is the purest dream of a young woman...

Victor: I’m not looking down on it. I just wanted to ask how this differs from the days you’re leading right now. 

This question renders me speechless, and I can only stare at him blankly. 

The parade vehicle passes by, and large volumes of flower petals drift around us.

I just hope that the light is sufficiently dim, so that he wouldn’t see that my face is even redder than the sky.

As the final ray of sunset dips beyond the horizon, the parade officially announces its end.

Observing the gradually dissipating crowd, I suddenly realise that one question has been neglected.

--

[ PART ONE ENDING ]

This isn’t an attraction Victor would be interested in. Why did he bring me here so decisively?

I search my memories for a long while, and a possible answer finally surfaces in my mind. 

A few days ago, he suddenly asked me a few questions out of nowhere. 

[ flashback begins ]

Victor: Having gone to the amusement park a number of times, which attraction was your favourite?

MC: Why the sudden question?

Victor: So, what’s your answer?

MC: Mm... let me think...

MC: If I had to mention one...

[ flashback ends ]

I didn’t expect that he was already making preparations for this trip to the amusement park since that time.

Perhaps seeing that I'm smiling in an overly silly manner, Victor asks a question.

Victor: What’s that silly smile for? 

MC: Victor, do you place special importance on this carnival? 

Victor: What kind of a question is that?

MC: I’ve already noticed! Those questions you asked a few days ago - they were in preparation for today, weren’t they?

Victor: Haven’t I always been practising what I preach and telling you about the importance of doing research and preparation beforehand?

Victor gives me a blank look - the exact same expression as when I hand him a proposal which doesn’t pass.

But as of today, his outward appearance no longer dupes me!

MC: Thank you. I didn’t think you’d really remember my answers, and even fulfil them for me. I feel especially happy right now. 

I take his hand, the corners of my lips curling upwards involuntarily.

Victor: Which one of your wild imaginations do I not remember? In contrast, I want to forget them. 

His tone is gentle, and a more tender sentiment surfaces in the deep pools of his eyes.

MC: But... isn’t something missing? 

Perhaps attributable to the extraordinary tenderness in his expression, I’m given the courage to be “insatiable”.

[ Option A: For you to smile a little more. ]

MC: Since you also asked me what I’d consider a “perfect day”, where’s the smile I want to see more of?

Hearing this, Victor rubs the bridge of his nose in resignation.

Victor: Haven’t I smiled enough today?

MC: Not enough. Aren’t you pulling a long face right now? Hurry and smile a little?

Most likely unable to win against the expectant blinks I'm sending him, Victor sighs heavily once more. Then, he lifts the corners of his lips in an unnatural manner.

MC: Pfft... 

MC: That won’t do. That’s just movement of your facial muscles. It doesn't count as a smile. 

I hop forwards by a few steps, then turn my head to give Victor a demonstration.

MC: This is how you smile. 

Victor: [sighs]...

He reaches out to pinch my cheek.

Victor: Always so silly. From the moment we met, it seems you haven’t changed.

MC: On the other hand, you’ve changed quite a lot. You’re more gentle, and you smile much more. It isn’t like how it was in the past either, where your smile would give Goldman a scare. 

--

[ Option B: To stick together with you. ]

MC: Since you also asked me what I’d consider a “perfect day”, why aren’t we sticking together as agreed?

Sure enough, Victor’s eyebrows furrow deeply once he hears this.

Victor: Your memory is always bafflingly good when it comes to these things.

MC: Of course. So? There are only a few more hours till the end of my “perfect day”.

I run a few steps forward, then turn my head and offer my hand to Victor.

MC: I’m already in front of you, and you aren’t going to hold on tightly?

With a long sigh, Victor steps forward and grips my hand tightly.

Victor: I've been holding on to it tightly since a long time ago.

He exerts slightly more pressure. Then, he steadily and naturally wraps his arms around my waist, encircling me into his arms.

I’ve forgotten when I started getting used to holding hands with him, and getting used to having his warmth by my side.

Victor: I’m wondering when these habits developed.

MC: Are you criticising me again?

Victor: I’m referring to myself.

Victor smiles with a sigh, looking as though he’s seen through me since a long time ago.

Victor: You're always making such a din. Ever since I met you, you don’t seem to have changed. But this is good too.

MC: We’re meant to complete each other. But you’ve changed quite a lot. More frank, and more easy to get close to.

Victor: I was infected by a certain dummy.

[ PART TWO ENDING ]

While Victor says this, he taps my head gently. It’s reminiscent of a complaint, yet is affectionate.

MC: It’s all right, I’ll take responsibility.

Victor: In that case, tell me more about your plan?

MC: First of all...

I step on my tiptoes, helping Victor adjust the tie around his neck which features pictures of small black cats. 

MC: I'll fill your life with more adorable things. Like me. 

The park starts to announce that the fireworks display is about to begin. 

Turning my head, I see the faint, flickering stars in the sky, anticipating the fireworks I’ll be sharing with him.

The first light rises to the sky, announcing that the performance has begun.

Victor: Your proposal still needs slightly more refinement. 

The moment the firework blooms, Victor takes my hand off his tie and into his palm. He speaks in a volume only I can hear.

Victor: Think properly about how you’re going to fulfil your bold, visionary words of taking “responsibility”. There’s still a lot of time to come to a conclusion.

In the deep curtain of darkness, the blooming fireworks create mottled colours and speckles of light. 

They are of the colour I answered him as my favourite.

When I don’t notice, he always does too much for me that I’m unaware of.

I know that the person holding onto my hand next to me is my life’s answer.

[justalittlelemony]

so I have been thinking about the "you have thicker skin than me" from Tommy's stream yesterday, basically non-stop.

and this line is interesting for a variety of reasons, but the question I'm currently focused on is:

why does c!Tommy think this?

obviously, we as the audience have more information than c!Tommy does, so I will try to keep that in mind, but it just feels like there's a bit more to it than just "c!Tubbo doesn't tell anyone about his issues, so no one knows."

one of the things I keep seeing brought up in relation to Tubbo's reaction to trauma is that going forward, he tries to use his own traumatic experiences to make better decisions very soon after the traumatic event, to the point that he will often overcorrect. examples that come to mind are: - at the beginning of his presidency after November 16th, trying to prevent war and the destruction of L'manberg at any cost, to the point that he barely argued with Dream's demands, despite them being, at points, very severe for the crime Tommy committed - being so afraid to be seen as a dictator or "like Schlatt" that he let himself be pushed around by his cabinet and Dream - coming up with a complicated descriptor for Snowchester when the Syndicate visited so that Technoblade wouldn't think it was a government and destroy it just like L'manberg - after the absolute destruction of L'manberg during Doomsday, developing the nukes as a "deterrent" to anyone who might want to hurt him or destroy Snowchester

Tubbo is a very logical person, so it makes sense that this would be his reaction. especially in comparison to c!Tommy, c!Tubbo can look at a situation with a mostly detached perspective and determine what the "right" answer is, even if that answer hurts himself or others. I think this dynamic is best illustrated in the Disc War Finale when Tubbo and Tommy are saying their goodbyes in the bunker.

note: I transcribed this a while ago and I didn't check it when I copied it for this analysis, so there might be a few mistakes. if my memory serves me correctly, this is just the raw dialogue without any repetition or overlapping. if you see something glaringly wrong, feel free to tell me, but I think this will work fine for the point I'm trying to make.

TOMMY: He's not gonna kill you. He's not gonna fucking kill you. He needs me. You've seen him deceive everyone, Tubbo. You know he's not gonna kill us. I tell you what we do. We make a break for the portal, we can run all the way back to my, I have the secret portal on the exile base. If we run to- TUBBO: Uh, we will be dead before we get to the portal. Too much of a distance. It's alright, we had some laughs. It, it was fun while it lasted. TOMMY: Why have you just accepted it? Don't just accept it now! TUBBO: We've been backed into a corner. TOMMY: Tubbo, we never just accept defeat, alright? We don't just accept this shit, man! TUBBO: There is nowhere to go under, we can't go up, we'll be dead before we get to the portal, we don't have pickaxes. Yeah, it's over. We had some laughs. It was fun, y'know? All good things must come to an end eventually. I didn't think that this would be my coming to an end if you will. TOMMY: Tubbo, what am I without you? TUBBO: Yourself. TOMMY: So, you really- Are you accepting this? Are you gonna be okay? TUBBO: Yeah, it's, it's alright. It's alright. Hey? We said our goodbyes already at the start. TOMMY: Yeah, but we were optimistic. This isn't what- TUBBO: Well, y'know, you get backed into a corner. He described me as a pawn? This is checkmate. This is it. This is the end. I suggest you resign. TOMMY: Tubbo, even though for this entire server, I have always regarded you as my sidekick. Really, Tubbo, I was your sidekick. Please don't go. Please don't go. TUBBO: No, it's fine. TOMMY: No, no, no. TUBBO: It's about time anyway.

Tommy starts the conversation quickly, almost tripping over his words as he tries to come up with a plan. in contrast, Tubbo is very calm and methodically lays out all of the ways they cannot escape. even when he comes the closest to expressing his feelings about the situation, it almost seems like he's trying to reassure Tommy more than anything. it's Tommy that is more concerned with Tubbo's feelings on his own seemingly inevitable death, asking "are you gonna be okay?"

c!Tommy reacts emotionally, while c!Tubbo reacts logically. this isn't any new information.

the reason I bring this up is that the goal of Tommy's lore stream yesterday was to, for lack of a better term, "get over" his trauma. he kept expressing how he doesn't have enough time and that he needs to be prepared (which, side note, dear god I live in so much fear for Thurs/Fri). Tommy knows how he reacts to reminders of his trauma. he has mentioned getting "panicky" and his "head getting all spinny." the one he notes during the stream was that he can't take damage without getting scared. Tommy knows that Dream will take any chance to use his trauma against him.

so when Tommy sees Tubbo brush off his past trauma and works towards preventing them from ever happening again, Tommy doesn't see someone who is repressing his own feelings and pretending that he is fine. he sees Tubbo being productive and not letting that trauma get to him in the same way it gets to Tommy.

he thinks he has thicker skin.

[tenfluenza]

sorting thru my liked music under the read me cuz im emo tonight ://

i didnt expect los campesinos to be on my list of go-to listens but knee deep at atp is pretty darn good. i am not a wilbur soot kinnie

please delete anything on your playlist related to polyphia. you dont like it and you have never liked it.

the more i listen to chiodos the more i end up enjoying them. the heartless control everything and the best way to ruin your life albums have a some overlap but overall i enjoy the heartless control everything more just because the opening song compromise of 1984 is terribly good. the trailing end sort of turns me off but it kinda reminds me of another song i really love so it turns out i can deal

bone palace ballet is funny because the track names are just so artsy and the piano and violin it in makes me happy. dont really have a favorite song from it though. i think its just an easy listen for me

devil by the chiodos is easily a top 20 (?) it has it all. behvis bullock has that energy im looking for but the lyrics are honestly hit or miss depending on how much of a singing mood im in. 3AM and under your halo are both solid songs for showing people without scaring them off

idfar is a single collab that i cant get over because it just came into my life so randomly that i still get surprised when i notice that its like, a real song and not something i dreamed up. the lyrics are depressing though so i try not to loop it too much

the used is a classic band. i only like certain songs and it all depends on if i want to sing along or not

i liked martyrs among the casualties more than i did mukiltearth. sorry guys. TECHNICALLY theyre different but i actually feel that the older one has this grungy (intentional or not :P) mixing i like. mirrors are more fun than television rly hits different if youre listening to it thru a CD

the fall of troy beloved <3 im really warming up to in the unlikely event. it was the first album from them i ever saw recommended to me but i didnt listen to it entirely cuz i got scared off by how strong panic attack! and straight jacket keelhauled sounded. empty the clip and battleship graveyard are deffo my faves tho lmao

doppelganger :) made me read house of leaves. book and music changed my life

manipulator is a great album but it makes me all teary so i cant listen to it for long or else i actually cry when i get to oh! the casino?!

the tribune ep is something i want remade so bad. i want to see a show just so i can request one playthrough of windmills and so true, ever so true. cant get enough of how the screaming vocals pair so well with the cleans

jlv but only because of the kite remake. if there is any song you listen to this year its kite. its gotta be kite. its got it all. the perfect song. black mass is also great but if i listen to it too much i start hating women.

do not listen to delta sleep.

wisiro by dgd makes me sob but in a good way :) i havent found anyone who feels the same abt the album but honestly it just has that level of emotion that resonates with me so well. cant really single out any of the songs but tidal waves comes on at just the right time where it makes you reevaluate your entire life from start to present. this album is better and cheaper than therapy.

also no one talks about attack of the dashing young and bold and the rain in vietnam. theyre both awesome

im just going to list off dgd albums i liked cuz theyre so popular already someones prob already said how i feel abt them (if your concert tickets are worth more than $50 you are mainstream): mothership, s/t, downtown battle mountain 1&2, happiness

fearofdark is my go to for chilling out and reliving the good times with the homies. makes me cry but in a good way

sewerslvt is amazing. raw and emotional in every song. its really too bad people dont like her more

i kill giants s/t i love them for their lyrics. i liked their sinatra collab too and their style with the spoken word poetry in the songs

saosin and circa survive. awesome, one of the rare cases where album art really ties the mood in with the music. they know how to choose their album artists

deaf havana, not to be confused with deafheaven. has one good album before they got rid of their one good singer in favor of making christian rock. meet me halfway at least is a banger album

deafheaven, not to be confused with deaf havana. roads to judah and sunbather are just -chefs kiss- love their metal. not a big fan of shoegaze sung by men to begin with though.

exactly one nirvana song. it is not smells like teen spirit

ajj gets an honorable mention for getting me Through it but ngl i like their ghost mice collab even though i know i shouldnt. firestarter is also a cute song i sing often

misc bands that i think are pretty cool: defeater, sufferer, sianvar, ttng, taking back sunday, thursday, mccafferty, a day to remember, mass of fermenting dregs, death cab for cutie, tfb, alex g, animal collective, sufta, ty scientist, madeon, a lot like birds, teenage halloween

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.8

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.5k Announcement: 4 minutes to midnight I made it haha today was stressful, too many people had breakdowns from the quarantine, my sisters, much-needed surgery cancelled. many tears. Italics -Your point of view.

[Part 1]  [Part 7]  [Part 9]  [Tag Yourself Here]

Seokjin watched you leave the elevator in a hurry. His heart sinking almost sickeningly into the pit of his stomach, he was in deep shit. There was no way you were going to talk to him ever again. Obviously, he had been reading the signs wrong. 

The elevator returned him to his previous floor worry staining his perfect features. Slouching as he shuffled back into the dance studio, the others noticing his change in demeanour. He felt absolutely horrid, as he slid his body down the wall hanging his head in shame. The boys were shocked the Seokjin had such a pained expression. 

“What happened?” Jimin briskly joined him trying to get some information.  “I made a mistake, I have ruined everything” “What did you do?” Yoongi asked, taking this as his break from standing, sat, then promptly laid back on the wooden floorboards.  “I kissed her” Yoongi got up faster than anyone had ever seen.  “You what!?” A voice shouted thundering footsteps closed in until Seokjin was being lifted by his collar. “That’s my sister!” 

They had no way of stopping the fist that connected with Seokjin's face but they quickly restrained b/n before he did any more damage.  “How will we explain this to the Army?” Namjoon turned Seokjin's head back and forth.  Looking at the swelling and bruising that had already started developing under his porcelain-like skin. 

“I will get some ice” Hoseok briskly ventured off and b/n stormed off to find you. Jimin after listening to His Hyung’s retelling of events wondered what the big deal was, it was just a kiss and there was no evidence he said he covered the camera. Management wouldn’t find out. 

Yoongi saw ideas hit Jimin like a freight train, “this is perfect, Quarantine means no paparazzi and as long as there are no security cameras we can do whatever we want” “You can’t do that, that’s what she is worried about being used and then forgotten” Taehyung picked at the lint on his pants, processing everything slowly. He started analysing every conversation they had shared. “She needs to trust us”

Hoseok who had walked back inside handed over an ice pack. “It’s not her that needs to trust us, we need to back off, do we all really expect to hang out when this is all over. We will be on tour again, tired and busy. Maybe she is right it would put too much strain on our friendship. If we are busy with the tour it’s just her waiting alone, she would be the only one putting in the effort” 

Namjoon hummed “you make a valid point”

There was a brisk knock at the door, you were breathing into a paper bag as the panic set in. Your lungs closing up these symptoms resembling an Asthma attack, the human body was truly something. The door opened and your brother stepped in, he was tense but noticing your predicament he assured you he would return quickly with your puffer. 

Minutes past and there was another knock, you thankfully had calmed slightly. Enough to head over and open up the door nervously you saw someone you weren’t expecting. It was someone from higher up and they escorted you to the elevator. This couldn’t be happening, how would they know already. This had to be a coincidence. 

Arriving at the sixth floor. Everyone was wearing masks and gloves, you felt a little unsure. Taking small hesitant steps, the atmosphere was heavy. People were moving about the place silently, that's what was unnerving. The silence. “This way” the two men either side of you pressed their hands against your back, pushing you forward. In a small office which looked to have been converted into a bedroom. An older man was laying in bed and he didn’t look well. 

“We have a list of supplies we need you to retrieve, we have made contact with the hospital and they are waiting,” A man behind a mask took your phone, typing in an address. 

“What if I refuse” Your voice was barely audible, two guns were cocked behind you making you freeze up. Looking over your shoulder to the two men who were aiming at your head. You swallowed thickly You would need time to process everything. “Please get dressed and meet us on the first floor while everyone is at dinner”

Yoongi had finished showering and was dawdling to the elevator, he honestly hoped that there was something good for dinner. He never complained about food but he sure had his favourites. When this was over he would order lamb skewers. He knew these were trivial thoughts but he was trying to avoid the exhausting topic relating to the events that occurred that afternoon. The elevator doors opened and he saw you looking pale accompanied by two men in suits. What odd occurrences at first he was heading to the basement and saw your brother holding a puffer saying you had disappeared in the middle of a panic attack, and now.  Now, here you were being followed by two young men, is this why you had wanted condoms. Yoongi frowned, why had you dressed like that. He didn’t like the idea of you looking so good in the presence of other men.

You nodded as the shock was shaking you to the core, you were escorted down to the basement. Yoongi stood outside the elevator with wet hair, he moved aside as you went to the storage room to get dressed. Finding some long pants and your undergarments which had dried by now. You were dressed covered but not too warm; you knew walking would keep you warm”

It was torture. You brushed passed him as he eyed the two gentlemen even though it really wasn’t his business. Running a hand through his hair he was exasperated. Not knowing how he got from the basement to the cafeteria but here he was focusing on his bowl of kimchi jjigae. Dinner had provided a much-needed distraction. He didn’t want to know what you and two men could get up to. 

You stood off to the side of the first floor zipping you into the suit. You put on a brave face and spotted Areum walking to the cafeteria. Hesitating just long enough to get a gun pressed into your back “move” 

“I wonder what y/n will eat she doesn’t really like kimchi jjigae,” Jungkook asked quietly flooding back to Yoongi’s mind were subtle things, the way your eyes were blown wide you must have been excited. 

“Guys I can’t find y/n and last I saw her she was having a panic attack in the basement.  “I saw her go to the basement with two guys, she is probably having the time of her life right now” There was bitterness in his voice that even left him shocked.

She gave you a scared look as if she was going to call out but you shook your head slightly and flicked your hand in a subtle shooing motion. She quietly ran to the cafeteria and you were thankful she listened. Afraid that if they spotted her she might have gotten hurt. Heading out the building and down the foggy streets, there was something eerie about this all.

“She what!” Jimin froze looking at the monotonous rapper. “What do you mean?” “Namjoon-ssi” a voice shouted Hoseok recognised Areum and smiled.  “It’s y/n, she, she and they with guns” The boys were on their feet, “what did you say? Who what do you mean guns?” Their words overlapped sounding like nonsense to the other diners.

“Tell Me” b/n shook her not so gently. She was scared as she tried to stay calm and explain.  “They had guns pointed at her and they sent her outside.” “Outside!?” Jungkook went to run but was grabbed “let me go Hyung she could be dying, the poison” “They have guns Jungkook” “She was in a suit,” Areum said 

Yoongi scolded himself, she hadn’t been excited, she had been scared, he wanted to slap himself. Why hadn’t he tried to talk to you to find out what was wrong? He could have stopped all this. If only he just asked. He knew she was waiting for him to ask.

“Who were these men?” Namjoon hissed ready to throw hands.  “That’s the thing, it’s the higher-up’s bodyguards, this is an inside job whatever they want they are willing to risk other people’s lives for it” Areum sniffed.  “Maybe she left a note in the storage room,” Taehyung said hopefully and they all took off heading to the basement. They searched all the obvious places and deemed it unlikely that you did. They had no choice but to sit and wait. 

You had been travelling for about two hours by the time you arrived at the hospital. The night was still, it was cool but inside the suit, you were very warm. The boots you were wearing ironically were not exactly made for walking. They were for style rather than comfort. Blisters already forming on the backs of your ankles. It was too quiet, you had your radio on barely audible. Not wanting to run into any unfamiliar people in the fog, with little to no noise you continued making the journey to the Hospital. Arriving they led you to the back, filling your pack full of supplies, staring at the oxygen tank you were supposed to carry back.

“What if she doesn’t come back?” Areum paced  “She is smart, she will be fine” Your brother seemed dead inside, staring into nothingness. They didn’t want to admit the odds but they honestly thought he was being delusional the odds were stacked against you. 

“I heard there are thieves killing people and stealing their supplies on the street” Seokjin frowned. This was clearly his punishment for catching feelings. The nine of them paced and shifted around the room. Like the worlds longest and most anxiety-inducing game of musical chairs. “I hope she is safe” Jungkook muttered

Heading back. Following the map in reverse, you heard someone talking. Switching off your radio not wanting to risk being found you slowly moving along the street. There was a voice speaking Korean one was shushing the other and they cocked guns. 

They could hear your breather, reaching behind you and turning the dial until your breather stopped. You continued moving quietly. You couldn’t let yourself be found. You knew these were bad people. You had heard about people with guns. The supply place had warned you about the thieves. You continued moving quickly, your lungs burning, you would have to take another breath soon. 

Gasping Jimin pulled his head out from the water in his hands, he tried to clear his head splashing on his face. He wanted to confront the higher-up’s, he needed answers. He wanted to go out and get you but he couldn't. There was no plausible way to do it. He felt like he was running aimlessly through the dark. 

Running aimlessly in the dark, well you called it running but it was more like a glorified power walk, you reached down turning the dial. Taking slow breaths of the oxygen pooling back into the mask, you think you might have lost them. Your heart was beating so strong in your ears it was unbearable. 

Clutching the large medical oxygen tank, you navigate your way through the thick fog. It was damn near impossible to see, you were watching the ground for anything audible that would give yourself away. You saw a pair of feet stopping abruptly. There was a figure in front of you, thankfully they were facing away, their breather was louder than yours. His gun was strung over his shoulder and his hands seemed free. 

“Why did you kiss my sister?” “I um, I think I have feelings for her?” “Listen, you know that’s not a good idea, why would you drag her into this, the kpop world is ugly and the fans deadly and devoted” “It’s not like we planned for this to happen, we just like her” Yoongi hummed Laying across the couch.  “Wait, we? Great, just great, anyone else in love with my sister?” Taehyung raised his hand and the others followed suit. 

Raising your hand you switched off your breather, he looked like he was about to turn so you swung with all your might. The tank colliding with the back of his head, he dropped. You snatched his gun and continued you had to be close, you passed a familiar building plaque. Turning your breather on you had to do something. 

Two buildings away. In a moment of stupidity, you unzipped the front of your suit, slipping the gun inside. Into the hem of your sweatpants, you arranged it to hide under the lumpy suit. It was quite a long gun it reached your knee and up to your underarm. But you had to make it look natural. You could feel the uncomfortable warmth on your body from the chemicals. Luckily the headpiece was isolated from the body of the suit meaning it didn’t let the fumes that leaked into the suit, up into your eyes or lungs. 

You made it to the door and they let you in, thrusting the items into their hands you told them you had to wash the fumes off and walked to the elevator in the suit. You got to the basement and heard both the boys and your brother arguing, turning into the bathroom and slipping off the suit. You removed the gun. It was a big, locating the safety on the side you switched it on. You thought you would be more scared holding a weapon but that moment had already passed. 

Throwing open the shower door you saw Jungkook turn, slipping in the process and covering himself with a washcloth. “Please don’t shoot!” “Jungkook shut up, look I need a boost. Can you lift me up here? I need to hide this.” “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Jungkook come on” “Okay,” he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked over, body glistening and he squatted down holding his towel from shifting. His muscular arms wrapped around your thighs and he pushed up, standing. Placing the gun up on the ledge before he returned you back down. 

Straightening up he frowned “what’s wrong with your neck, it’s all red.?”  “Chemical burns all over my body, no major exposure but it’s potent stuff out there” those words registered in his mind at a lightning pace. Chemical burn, burn, an injury you were hurt. 

He grabbed you, walking you backwards and turning the shower on. He took the detachable shower head and began washing you down. He frowned at the redness of the chemical biting into your skin. He one-handed pulled your shirt above your head and threw it with a wet slap across the room, his hand then travelling to your sweat pants sliding them down. “Is that better?” He was trying not to look at your beautiful body. Now really wasn’t the time. 

“Yes you can't imagine the relief”

[Part 1]  [Part 7]  [Part 9]  [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags:  @bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaeb @seveniefive​ @w0lfqu33n​ @anaiss97​ @moccahobi​ @maddymal​ @lilacdreams-00​

[lovewillthaw-j]

Forest of Shadows review

I finally read FoS, because my recent post on the “Secret Room” led me to search FoS and I also had some time on hand. I’m writing this post to share my views and invite conversations. Spoilers ahead! Also; I have not read any other full reviews of FoS. This is also the first Frozen-related official fiction I have read other than the Dark Horse comic True Treasure. Long post ahead.

Background: Ever since joining the fandom, I have seen mentions of FoS by other bloggers and get the general feeling that it’s a great book; thus I had high expectations of FoS. I had obtained the book in early February, read the first chapter and found it interesting. Didn’t have time to finish the book till now. Unfortunately, to be honest and true to myself, I did not like it.

The Good: I give credit to the author for 1) Exciting writing, it is truly quite a page turner, I couldn’t put it down and finished it in a day, reading into the night way past my usual bedtime. 2) A complex plot that did not feel drawn out for the sake of filling pages 3) Focusing on the sisters throughout and the climax being about their love for each other 4) The new characters do not take too much focus away from the sisters 5) Countless F2 references such as the scarf, Iduna singing the lullaby and cuddling both children, mention of a Dark Sea on the map, mention of Runeard and the Northuldra. 

The Bad: I will touch on 6 areas (with some unavoidable overlap): 1) The premise 2) Anna’s characterisation 3) The Nattmara 4) Aren and Revolute sword 5) Myth vs Reality 6) Plot holes. Spoilers ahead!

1) In this story, Elsa is 24 and Anna is 21 - 3 years post Frozen 1 and in the same year as F2. The premise of the story is that Elsa is fearful of being a bad queen, and Anna is insecure about how Elsa feels about her. Elsa is also about to leave, without Anna, on a world tour on a ship. Elsa has planned for Anna to be the “keeper of the kingdom” while she is away but for some reason, has not told Anna, even up till 3 days before the voyage. The Blight starts and Elsa feels powerless, amplifying her fear, which brings on the wolf form of the Nattmara. Anna, who is insecure for almost the whole story, gets freed from her insecurity when it is revealed to her that Elsa intended for Anna to be the “keeper of the kingdom” all along. And then, Anna figures out the Nattmara is Elsa’s nightmare (and not Anna’s) and in the climax, uses “true love” to free Elsa and the whole kingdom. I feel that the entire premise of this story is thin and very OOC for the sisters, at least in my headcanon. 

It is illogical to me that after 3 years of rule, Elsa feels fearful of being a bad queen. Surely she would have feared she would be a bad queen for the entire time since Agnarr died 6 years ago? Why now? Why would she feel this way 3 years after the great thaw and when she has Anna by her side? It is illogical to me that Elsa wouldn’t bring Anna on the world tour, and illogical that she would make Anna the keeper of the kingdom but not tell her about it or even give her some preparation and instructions, up till 3 days before the voyage. In the library, the sisters spent a whole afternoon together reading books and they couldn’t find the time to talk to each other? 

Regarding the climax, I acknowledge that the author found a clever word play with “Revolute” being an anagram of “True Love”. But, using an act of “True love” to save the day felt stale and rehashed from F1, as if Anna’s act of true love in F1 was insignificant. I was sorely disappointed when I reached the climax.

2) I was very irritated with how Anna was characterised in this story as it clashes with my headcanon of how 21 year old post F1 pre F2 Anna should be. The author decided that “Anna is really, really, REALLY insecure” and bombarded us with reminders every few sentences about it. For example, when the sisters talked to SoYun, Elsa told SoYun “you did the right thing coming to me” and Anna felt insecure that Elsa had not said “us”. When Anna suggested to send Kristoff to look for the trolls, Elsa hesitated and Anna felt insecure that Elsa did not seem to like Anna’s idea. When Anna discovers the secret room, she is reminded of how she was always “the last to know” as a child. When Elsa talked to Gerda, Anna “would have been even happier if Elsa had told Gerda that Anna had found something important”. Anna also has a nightmare that there is another “Anna” that Elsa and Kristoff interact with, while she, the real Anna watches from outside. Why is Anna so insecure 3 years post F1 when she knows that Elsa’s love for her is so great that Elsa would willingly lock herself away from her? The book also tells us that Anna felt that she needed to “prove her worth” to Elsa, and this led to Anna becoming fixated on fixing the Blight, to earn Elsa’s approval and to bring her on the boat trip. To me, Anna giving up her life for Elsa in F1 has “proved her worth” for all time!! The author also took pains to bombard us with reminders of how ditzy and clumsy and awkward Anna is eg always waking up late, walking into the great hall in her nightgown, interrupting Elsa and embarrassing Elsa in front of the people, running off with Revolute sword with no plan. This is not what I headcanon 21 year old post-F1 Anna to be. She might be awkward, yes, but not to this level.

Anna also did a couple of immature things. 2 big examples: Elsa held a meeting in her bedroom and Anna wasn’t invited, but Anna could hear that the meeting was going on (outside the door) and was upset and fled to her room. I would have expected Anna to knock on the door and go in and be helpful, after all, she is the royal princess and Elsa’s confidante. Anna’s belief in the spell that grants dreams is also rather immature, as a 21 year old adult I would have expected her to know better. 

I also expected Anna to sleep in Elsa’s bed every night to be there for her, especially when Elsa has been troubled by events (think about F2). Since when does Anna put anything, including her own insecurity over her love for Elsa? but no, upon finding Elsa’s bedroom empty, she goes back to sleep in her own room, and Elsa also didn’t come over to look for Anna. Why couldn’t the sisters just TALK to each other?? At the end of F1 they couldn’t stop touching each other, holding hands, hugging each other, making up for lost time.In summary:

I just cannot see my darling Anna as this person, sorry! 

Yes she could have been like this before F1, but not after her epic F1 journey to save Elsa and not after 3 years with Elsa by her side. 

3) The Nattmara. I have trouble with the Nattmara’s existence. As mentioned above, Elsa should have been fearful of being a bad queen 6 years ago - Nattmara should have appeared way earlier, why now? 

The powers of the Nattmara were also ill defined. First, it was a sickness on animals and crops. Then it became a literal, physical wolf with capabilities to inflict real physical harm. Then, it also gained the ability to scare humans (not as a wolf, but as some unseen, spiritual force) but additionally, turn humans into zombies (Kai and Gerda, while half-awake, were able to hold weapons against Anna) Next, the Nattmara gained the ability to turn into black sand, reform into a wolf, and turn back into black sand effortlessly. IIRC, the Nattmara only demonstrated the ability to turn into black sand after they read about it in Sorenson’s book, and then it started to use this power extensively. But even more confusing, when they were leaving the Huldrefolk and rushing back to Arendelle, they met up with Sorenson who was “possessed” by the Nattmara but didn’t have the yellow eyes and was able to speak normally and deceive the main characters about a magical water source. And after that, “possessed-Sorenson” (an old man) gained the physical ability to take on Kristoff in a fight. 

I feel that the author twisted the powers and capabilities of the Nattmara to keep the reader on the edge. (doesn’t everybody like zombies) I’m not sure if the Nattmara is just darkness or does it have a mind of its own? And every normal person has nightmares and fears, why hasn’t Nattmara appeared before? In chapter 9, it is stated that “Anna had dreamed of the wolf her entire childhood” - what is the explanation for that from a Nattmara perspective?

4) Aren and the Revolute sword are confusing as the author first introduces it as a myth (a sword that can create an actual, geographical fjord miles wide, is a myth) and the sisters acknowledge that it is only a tale. Sorenson debunks Aren and Revolute. Inexplicably, after Sorenson debunks it, Anna immediately says “So we need Revolute!”, showing that she now believes that there is a real Aren and a real sword, and this leads them to look for the Huldrefolk because “the Huldrefolk always find that which is lost”. To put it another way, a group of adults decided to enter dangerous, abandoned mines, based on the thinnest of suggestions that a mythical sword exists and a magical people that may not exist, somehow have it. Their quest to find the sword then leads them back to the tumulus, which they now believe is Aren’s. After some difficulty, they actually find a physical sword named Revolute, but my question is, do the sisters believe this is a real, normal sword owned by a normal human warrior called Aren or do they now believe they have found the mythical, fjord carving sword? They then try to use a physical sword against a mythical creature - doesn’t that contradict the “myth to destroy a myth” bit? 

Nattmara destroys the sword, and eventually the “myth to destroy a myth” is revealed to be True Love, which happens to be the anagram of “Revolute”. Clever, but too convenient! What does the sword have to do with true love? Couldn’t Anna have figured out that the answer was true love by another way? 

Historically speaking, warriors would be buried with their swords next to them or laid on their bodies with their arms crossed over the sword, so why is the sword found in the ship’s dragon mouth? And, the book said that the tumulus may be thousands of years old, how can a sword that old not have rusted and disintegrated by now?

Additionally, the Earth giant’s passage starts from the castle and passes the tumulus of Aren; Iduna knew the existence of the passage because she wrote about it in her book, so why wouldn’t any other king, Agnarr included, have examined/exhumed the tumulus and made it a museum, or store the artifacts in a museum, and research to see whose tomb it was? These are the 1800s after all, archaelogy had already begun post-renaissance.

5) As an extension of point 4, the treatment of myth/magic and reality is confusing. The story starts off on the premise that aside from Elsa’s magic and the rock trolls, we are in the real world dealing with real botanical and animal farming issues. Sorenson is introduced by Oaken as a “mystic” but in person, Sorenson is actually a scientist (reminds you of Varian from RTA/ TTS). Sorenson makes an excellent speech debunking the Nattmara, Huldrefolk and Aren and Revolute. When I got to this point in the book, I thought, that’s an absolutely correct 21st century mythbuster/human psychology explanation of nightmares and magical creatures and other unexplained phenomena. The book that he is holding is even called “Psychologia”. I was expecting that there would be a real world, logical explanation for the wolf and the Blight and Kai and Gerda going mad (Zootopia and the “night howlers” serum causing savageness comes to mind) However, the author then throws this away and the Nattmara is shown to be a real magic force, the Huldrefolk are shown to be real, Aren and his sword are actually real. Sorenson is the one who said “you can only defeat a myth with a thing of myth” but in the same breath says that all of these don’t truly exist; Yet, the rest of the story rests on defeating Nattmara with a thing of myth. 

 If the author had intended to portray this as a magical world and Sorenson as the “skeptic”, she didn’t write it clearly enough; or she shouldn’t have inserted so many sentences on debunking to maintain the suspension of disbelief. 

6) Plot holes: Why is Elsa the only one who can deal with mundane problems like cracks in chimneys and animal illnesses? Hasn’t she heard of delegation?

Why isn’t Elsa interested in the contents of the secret room, as an educated adult and ruler? She took one look at the portrait of Aren, thought about “great leaders”, felt consumed by fear that she isn’t one, and decided that she will shut the secret room and inexplicably says “mother and father intended for it to be hidden, so it should stay hidden”. A great leader would read extensively and do research and build on what your forebears have done; here is a treasure trove of work done by her parents, the previous rulers.

If Elsa could make the massive snow bear, Bjorn, then why didn’t she make an army of snow bears to fight possessed-Sorenson? Instead she left Kristoff to face him alone?

When Elsa was consumed by the black sand and Anna ran towards her, it is clearly written that Elsa attacked Anna with the black sand, but in the next chapter Anna is still Anna and not zombified.  

==

Wow, I have really written a lot. I guess I was really invested in the story, but my disappointment at the ending and the overall premise is too great. I really wanted to like this story. I don’t mean to start any wars, I hope I haven’t offended anybody and I’m willing to consider other perspectives. Please talk to me in the comments! Thanks for reading if you reached here!

[dio-theshitpost-brando]

This will be a massive list that’s basically, in order: DNI/DNF, About, Rules, Main AU description, Muse List.

Sorry it’s so long. I’ll be editing the pages again, but it is kind of important to have a pinned post since pages aren’t viewable on mobile.

(I will likely edit things off and on and I may make temporary posts referencing to here when I do that; particularly with the muse list. Aka, working on adding George even tho he’s baby...)

Do NOT interact/follow me if you:

 Fit the general criteria (Anti-LGBT+ (including excluding any part of the community), Racist, Sexist, Etc. If your shit can be seen as hate speech Don’t Follow.)

If your blog is mostly NSFW/Kink. If I can skim your blog and not know, I don’t really care.

If you mostly rb discourse/drama. Like the above. Doesn’t matter if I can’t immediately tell, but once it’s a majority of your blog content it makes me anxious.

If you ship incest (J0/na/D10 ESPECIALLY COUNTS WITH THIS), because that shit is a huge trigger. Yes. Legitimate trigger. Don’t argue this with me.

If you ship underaged and adult characters, too. Please don’t. There’s people out there who like these things or don’t care, follow them instead, not me.

About:

First off, this is kind of a mashup shitpost/ask/roleplay blog, though... I do usually tend to roleplay with very specific people (and my format is weird, but has an on blog reason to be), and tend to still use images in those. I’d rather not have a bunch of blogs so I kind of push it all into a couple, so feel free to come at me with anything! I try to be as inclusive as I can be. Though there are a few rules that weren’t covered in DNI.

Also, all blog “canon” overlaps with my Jotaro blog! (jotaro-hoards-belts) They both stem from the same AUs.

Rules: 

Obviously, no asks about ships that would be included in the above list.

While heavier content asks aren’t forbidden, I’d say to handle them with care. (Please consider the muse in question when considering how to bring up trauma. Aka I’d rather a “good” Dio not be taunted with his mother’s death; I’ve some headcanons that make that especially bad.)

Know that any triggering content in my stuff will be tagged and even if it’s of a certain variety I will not romanticize it. But I have some heavy headcanons and AU developments.

While muses can have a bit more freedom in reacting to muses on assumption, I’d rather muns and anons be openminded. For example, muses can be shitty about traumatic experiences, muns and anons cannot do that; however, anything that would relate to muses’ gender/orientation/race, I’d rather not deal with from muses OR muns.

AU Explanation:

With the rules out of the way, time to explain the AU situation. First thing’s first, is that actually all of this is kind of a multiverse situation. Think like Spiderverse or something like that, yeah.

I ALWAYS tag my AUs, now. I don’t have a list of which tags are for which AUs, but just clicking them and skimming them SHOULD clear some things up; if that doesn’t help just ask! I’m aware I do kind of a lot and it’s not always chronological, so I’m always A-Okay explaining things!

Fateswap:

Fateswap is basically a Jonathan-Dio roleswap. Though, slap it with a heavy dose of butterfly effect and it basically means “oops everything’s different!” Granted, there are kind of 2 timelines, but I use completely different tags for those muses, so it should be easy to tell which is which. The one I usually use is also referred to as “Fateswap-B”, and it’s essentially the “main” timeline, now.

The general gist of the AU is Vampire Jonathan and Hamon User Dio. There’s other changes too, since I refer to it as “Fate” swap, not “Role” swap. Dio has George in the AU, for instance. There’s lots of changes, but instead of making this longer, I will just say that there’s always sending asks to muses. (Or to me, but it’s a character ask blog for a reason, yeah?)

This blog will stay more focused on Part 1 of the AU, outside of events. If you’d like to ask about other parts, my ‘Jotaro’ blog is at part 6 in the AU!

Muse List:

Name: Dio Joestar Display name: Ham!Dio Age/DOB: 25 // April 20 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU: Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: Dio turns Jonathan into a vampire, learns hamon, then- wait. Oops Time traveled, learned life (more like death) spoilers and decided to apologize instead of go for the kill. Extra info: By the power of unexpected time travel and universe hopping he was set on a path that basically can be summed up as “Fateswap but mostly everyone lives.” Has since bettered himself and, to split all associations with a certain man, has just taken his adoptive family’s last name. He avoids fighting as best as he can. He lives with Erina who helps him take care of his son, George. He also has been adopted by or adopted various JoJos. Give him the chance and he’ll adopt more. Also, did I mention? Dude fucking hates moose.

Name: Erina Pendleton Display name: FS!Erina Age/DOB: 23 // March 18 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU:  Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: [See Dio’s entry.] Extra info: Lives with Dio to help raise George; only slightly regrets it. With her around you can’t roast Dio in any way that matters, she’s got it covered. She takes no shit and is always prepared to fight, and isn’t scared of much; regularly tussles a hungry vampire. Loves moose only because Dio hates them. Despite that, and other ways in which she harasses Dio she’d consider him her best friend at this point. If you care for your life don’t imply they are anything more in front of her. She helps Vampjo hunt for food; or rather, does it for him. Definitely considers Jonathan to be another dear friend, and truthfully nothing more.

Name: Jonathan Joestar Display name: Vampjo Age/DOB: 24 // April 4 Height: ~6'5"/195cm AU: Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: [See Dio’s entry.] Extra Info: Despite needing to eat people to survive, he’s quite hesitant to kill. With Erina’s help he eats anyway, to stop from attacking innocent people, or the few people he cares about. He definitely has a lot bottled up, though doesn’t like to speak much until he warms up. He also tends to try to stay to himself, though is slowly becoming more comfortable around people since completely isolating himself proves to just be self destructive. As such he goes from staying at Windknight’s Lot, to staying in the manor, moving between the two depending on how he feels. He is far from completely trusting Dio again, but does his best to be at least moderately friendly. Mostly for Erina and George’s sakes.

Name: Dio Pendleton Display name: ??? Age/DOB: 23 before death. // April 20 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU:  Previously Fateswap-A ;; fateswapDisk1.exe         Currently lives in between universes ;; withinTheFurthestRing.exe AU Overview: Turned JoJo into a vampire, tried to kill him but only destroyed his body, married Erina, had George, then got killed and body snatched. Basically Hamon Dio without the cross universe stuff. Also is now a dullahan, of sorts. Nice. Extra info: His head will come off if his ribbon is removed. Also, since he’s a really busted ass ghost who is NEVER invisible he drains the energy of the surrounding area like a bitch, making places he goes cold. Used to use Joestar-Brando as last names but after finding the rest of his family he took Erina’s last name like mostly everyone else did. They just chill in between universes, now. Also the best way to describe how he acts is Hamon Dio but if the only thing he felt bad about was disrespecting Erina and not All Of The Bullshit He Did. Has been recently given a bit of a gift...

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw child abuse (physical)

Hello, and thank you for all that you do! I think I'm just looking for support, since I know you can't tell me what really happened, and maybe any advice you can think of to help me cope with my feelings.

I've been repeatedly having a flashback of when I was really little and being beaten by my father. I've been told that I never was, and he says he just threatened it a few times before and didn't actually do it. But I have a memory of it happening and as time goes on I find myself remembering it more and more often. I don't know if it's real or not though. I have memory issues due to ADHD and there was one instance as a young child where I had a memory that wasn't real, but I'd been told about it often enough I thought I'd experienced it. So I don't know if my father beating me is a made up memory (which has only happened the one time before) and the idea of it scared me so badly it got wired into my brain, or if it actually happened. I know neither of us will be able to know what really happened, but it really scares me and spikes my anxiety. My relationship with my dad is really strained due to a multitude of reasons, and I'm really questioning myself and him and if it really happened or not. I already feel gaslit by myself because of my memory problems, and this memory scares me a lot and I don't know how to cope with it. Whether it was real or not, it really affected me and it's still affecting me and I don't know how to deal with it.

Thank you for listening to me vent, and for any advice you might have on trying to cope with overwhelming feelings

Hello,

Thank you for your compliment :)

Regardless of whatever the specifics are in your past, I’d like to start off by commending you for reaching out and seeking advice for what sounds like a really difficult situation when it comes to trying to manage symptoms. Whether you are able to label, and/or recall the memories of traumatic events, doesn’t make the trauma any less valid - I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it, but there’s a book called, “The Body Keeps The Score” that speaks to how our bodies hold and process trauma (here’s a 11+ YouTube video that summarizes the core principles). It, or any resources regarding trauma amnesia (a blog article that can help you familiarize yourself with some terminology for further searches), might be a validating resource to read up on, especially if you are concerned that you are gaslighting yourself.

Because you mentioned having ADHD, I’d like to share some resources/articles that help me in my own healing journey since I have the same diagnosis - here’s an article that explains how some of the symptoms between ADHD and trauma overlap (the reason being that studies/scans show how both impact our pre-frontal cortex). The article does a good job of advocating for more research between the two, and not insisting that having one, invalidates the diagnosis of another, but how the two can understandably compound one another. The site, ADDtitude has several more resources as well, including several free downloadable options for symptom management and advocacy (though of course you are always welcome to look through our coping page on our blog’s website for quick grounding techniques that might be helpful as well - including several apps for mental health support/wellness).

At the end of the day, what you are experiencing is hard - and your feelings in relation to it valid - and you deserve both healing, and the tools to live a life where you are not merely surviving, but thriving. I hope some of these links might be a helpful starting point.

- Mod Kat

[razberryyum]

The Untamed and The Living Dead movie Thoughts

SPOILERS AHEAD!

If you haven’t watched the movie, it’s best not to proceed cuz you will be spoiled.  

OR, if you have already watched the movie and love it completely, AND you stan Yu Bin and will not put up with any criticism about his performance, it’s also best not to proceed cuz you’ll most likely be annoyed/upset with me. Let’s just agree to disagree right now and move on with our separate happy lives.  

Overall Rating for The Living Dead: 3 Lil Apples out of 10

Yeah, I know that’s pretty harsh…I waffled between 3, 4 and 5, but I had to settle on a 3 in the end because I don’t think I’ll ever rewatch this movie and there were just so many problems I had with it, that I realized I can’t say I liked the movie much at all.  

Before I go on, let me first address the big white elephant in the room: no, WangXian does NOT cameo in The Living Dead nor are they even mentioned in any capacity that would assure us they are still together and happy in the movie’s timeline. At one point Wen Ning does mention them in the same sentence, but only in relationship to himself (that they saved him) and the past. For those of us desperate for confirmation of WangXian happily ever afterness in the world of CQL (“us” meaning me only most likely), we get no assurance whatsover. This is especially disappointing since the movie apparently take place years later after the events of The Untamed so it’s really sad that we have no idea if they are together. Of course in the world of the novel, we know they are absolutely together, happily married, everydaying everyday, but it would’ve been nice if we were given some tiny morsel of comfort for WangXian of The Untamed.  

Not only does Lan Zhan not make an appearance, he’s only mentioned by Wen Ning once, as I indicated above. As for Wei Ying, he’s mentioned a few times and he kiiiiinda makes a cameo…but honestly, I wish they didn’t even attempt that cameo cuz it was so bad. It’s basically the backview of some extra dressed as Wei Ying and dubbed over by someone else that’s not Lu Zhixing-laoshi. Or if it is, the dub was so bad that it didn’t even sound like him anymore.

That’s actually one of my main problems with the movie: the dubbing or sound mixing just sucked. Every time there was dialogue it sounded very obviously that it was on a different track. I didn’t even feel like the characters were saying the words because their voices sounded detached from them. Whereas in The Untamed, I sometimes would completely forget that with the exception of Nie Huaisang, everyone’s line reads were performed by voice actor because the voices were blended so well within the scenes. I don’t know the technical terms of all this dubbing stuff so hopefully I’m making some sense.

Another big problem was the CGI. Holy crap was it bad. It was so bad at no point was I able to immerse myself into the action scenes…I didn’t feel anyone was in danger because they were being attacked by a bunch of obvious and bad CGI. One of the worse scenes that they showed THREE times was when the sister (Xiao Qing) being burned up in CGI flames. First of all her acting was horrendous (why was she covering her ears while she’s being burned alive??) and then the fake fire just made me groan out loud. I didn’t even want to look it was so embarrassingly bad.  

I’m trying to figure out when they shot this movie…in order for them to be able to release the movie so soon after the show, the filming had to overlap with The Untamed’s filming, right? So I guess budget was still tight, probably even tighter than the main show, since CQL probably didn’t start actually seeing the money it made from ads, etc until towards the end. Either way, it feels like they didn’t put much money into this movie, especially not the effects. And if I’m going to be honest, I think they probably just had their second…nay…probably third unit direct it. Or at least, they had their third unit decide on some of the casting cuz some of the performances were…OOF. One thing I really appreciated about The Untamed is that even with most of the background actors, there was hardly a glaringly bad performance. I’ve said before the worse really was the actor who played Wen Ruohan, which is a shame cuz he’s more than an extra, but overall all the performances by the supporting characters ranged from decent to strong with hardly a weak link. Here, in this movie, I would say most of the performances from the new cast members were very mediocre. In fact, the only truly consistently good performances from beginning to end was Zheng Fanxing (Sizhui) and that cute little girl in the beginning:

I was kind of sad when she got killed off cuz she was adorable and definitely a MUCH better actor that the dude who played her older brother…at no point was I remotely convinced he was scared so on the other hand I was happy he died. But I thought she was going to burn to death or something because it didn’t seem like a good idea to have her hide in a wooden cupboard with a lite stove…that was so stupid and weird. Btw, what the hell was with that cat screeching sound effect?? Sounded like someone was throwing a cat, but like WHY?  

As for the three new players introduced for this movie—Gao Han as Xiao Yi, Wang Yifei as Xiao Qing and He Longlong as Zhou Zishu—I’ve never seen their work before, and nothing about their performances in this movie makes me interested in what they will do in the future. To be fair, Gao Han tried…you can totally tell he was trying REALLY hard in some of his scenes, but for the most part, he either overacted or strangely enough, underacted. He was just really inconsistent. I know Zhou Zishu was supposed to be a red herring so the fact that he started out looking sketchy AF was supposed to be a ruse since our narrator was entirely untrustworthy, but even in the context of that false narration, he was really bad. As for the sister played by Wang Yifei…just look at her performance as she’s being burned up again.  

By the way, I’m gonna say this now: if Wei Ying and Lan Zhan don’t even get to share a fucking real hug between them throughout the entirety of The Untamed, then I don’t think some generally unimportant-in-the-greater-scheme-of-things couple should be allowed to freaking KISS in anything related to the world of CQL.

I understand it’s all about the censorship, etc etc, but if any hetero couple deserved to share an onscreen kiss, it would’ve been Shijie and Jin Zixuan, and since even they were deprived of that, then these two nobodies should not have been granted this privilege. Seriously, fuck whoever decided to stick that moment in the movie. That’s just fucking unfair and really annoyed me. There better not be any more of that kind of nonsense in the Nie brothers‘ movie.  

The last I’ll say about performances is that sadly, I felt as if there was something off about Yu Bin’s. I totally understand that this is a different Wen Ning than the one we saw in the show—he’s older, more mature, since God knows how many years have passed already—so I don’t mind that he’s more serious. But at the same time, he was just so uneven that I couldn’t get behind his performance at all. He was always one key off, if that makes any sense, so it almost felt like someone else was playing Wen Ning entirely, someone who is completely unfamiliar with that character. And his work in the…whatever fuck that place was…Yin Metal purgatory?? (and for those who are familiar with Guardian, that place was giving me bad flashbacks to Dixing)…was kind of cringey overall.  

I wanted to love seeing Wen Ning be a badass wise uncle, so I actually feel really sad that I couldn’t enjoy his performance in general. However, what I absolutely did enjoy was seeing uncle and nephew bonding and working together…  

…just wish those moments weren’t marred by all that bad CGI.  

Wen Ning’s new look gave me pause though: not that I didn’t appreciate the whole metal look, but I kind of couldn’t figure out why Wen Ning added the chains back to his ensemble when he got rid of them back in The Untamed already.

I mean, if the black veins on his neck don’t attract attention, walking around wearing heavy, clangy chains sure would probably alarm people as well, I think.  

Last thing on Wen Ning: again, not that I didn’t appreciate his newfound ability to hulk out, but yikes, that whole effect was ruined by yet again bad CGI AND a really goofy score. Sounded like something they “borrowed” from Naruto.

Except for that one piece of music, I did like the score for the rest of the movie, especially in the opening credits since it definitely evoked a sense of creepiness. The images in the credits were good too. I can easily imagine that being the OP creds to a horror anthology.  

As for the story, I was fine with it. I liked that they related the family to Nightless City because apparently they are the ones who helped make Nightless City nightless? Here I thought it was the surrounding lava but I guess there were lanterns lighting the place up that I just somehow missed completely.  I liked the plot twist with Xiao Yi and his “sister”…although I did guess there was some incesty thing going on in the beginning…just didn’t think I would be right and wrong at the same time. I thought they would relate their relationship back to Wen Ning and Wen Qing somehow, considering the sisters shared the same name…this was before the “incest” part was confirmed of course…but they never really did so having Wen Qing share the same name as Xiao Qing felt like an oddity in the end. It’s also odd how they used the same phonetically sounding last name of “Xiao” since of course I immediately thought of Xiao Zhan (different characters). Like, couldn’t they come up with completely different names? Overall, the plot wasn’t bad, as mysteries go, at first I couldn’t figure out why the Yin Metal all of a sudden had all these new powers and why the metal wielder, Zhou Zishu, would become a ghost puppet himself, but with the plot twist, all of that was explained so I was fine with it. The last shot of “Xiao Yi” in the Yin Metal purgatory made me guffaw; yeah, that didn’t look suggestive AT ALL. 

The Living Dead actually makes me look forward even more to the next movie, The Fatal Journey. I’m hoping that since it’s potentially about the Nie brother’s past and Jin Guangyao, that perhaps there will be less need for CGI as it will focus more on just dialogue and story-telling. Not to mention, again, apologies to Yu Bin fans, but those three actors are generally stronger performers, so with them at the helm, I’m expecting/hoping for greater things.    

Since I’ve been mostly negative, I wanted to leave on at least one positive note: Sizhui is still an adorable puppy. His dads, wherever they are, whatever they’re doing during the movie, must be so proud of him. 

[diloph]

(Pictured: SU fans upon seeing Rose/Pink screwing up again)

So, Steven Universe Future Spoilers for "Volleyball" under the cut.

Sssssooo...

Pink Pearl says that she pent 8000 years under White Diamond's control, but Pearl says she was "given to her just a few thousand years before she was given the Earth". Spinel was left behind when Pink was first granted her colony, at the 6000 year mark.

I've been trying to figure out the timeline. Pink Pearl says that she's older than our Pearl, yes, that makes sense, but the rest of the timeline is a bit off. How could Pearl be serving Pink a few thousand years if Pink Pearl was still in service around then?

Taking off the 2000 years between White Diamond taking control of her to Pink Diamond getting her colony, there's a significant overlap there. Was Pink Pearl cracked and then handed to White to make use of? If so, what did she do to get herself put under direct control like that? Or was our Pearl working in a lesser capacity, only to get promoted when Pink Pearl cracked and was taken over?

My guess is that Pink Pearl was cracked, but otherwise functional. Horrified at what she'd done, Pink took her to the other Diamonds, who admonished her and when they found that she couldn't be repaired, took her away and replaced her with our Pearl.

Now, under White Diamond, Pink Pearl wasn't necessarily recustomised as when Steven frees her, she reverts back to being pink in colour. But, as Blue and Yellow Diamonds note, White has a temper and is a perfectionist. Pink Pearl is a traumatised individual who freezes up and gets scared when screamed at or threatened by physical violence. 

Now, there had to be a catalyst for Pink getting a colony all of a sudden and there had to be a catalyst for getting Pink Pearl put under White Diamond's direct control. Given that Pink abandoned Spinel in the Garden not long after getting told about her colony, implying that she's still pretty immature, I wonder if it's all related.

Pink goes to White again, demanding a colony. White denies her and the two begin arguing, loudly. Possibly escalating into a shouting match between the two. Pink Pearl is present and begins to react negatively.

Now, of the two options, either Pink notices her former Pearl like this and feels some guilt or doesn't notice her (or worse, feels no guilt). White, however, angry that Pink Pearl is not doing her duties or worse, is refusing to obey her, is forcibly taken over.

In case a), where Pink notices what has happened as a result of her tantrums, she is horrified again at what she's done and leaves. Seeing that she has upset Pink in some capacity, White moves to get her the colony, even if it takes a while. That's me being nice to both of them. In scenario b), White simply gives her a colony to shut her up. Scenario c) is the same as b), only Pink doesn't care what she's done.

Of course, there's a d) option. White does not grant her a colony at all. She waits the 2000 years until she believes that Pink can handle it or is worn down via nagging. Pink gets tired of Spinel during this time.

Thankfully, she doesn't lash out this time, probably because she realises that it has horrific consequences for the Gem in question. She's beginning to learn somewhat and is trying to avoid leaving a Gem in that sort of state again. Remember, the other Diamonds threw her in the tower when she was too disobedient, so past damaging Pink Pearl, I think that's when she began to develop some empathy for those under her control.

That said, she's still very callous and still very ignorant. When she's granted a colony and wants to show the other Diamonds how mature she is, she elects to abandon Spinel under the pretence of a game. She isn't shattering her, she isn't bubbling her, she isn't causing her physical damage, so that makes it better, right?

There's a whole movie showing that was a bad idea.

All in all, the timeline for the pre-Earth events with Pink seems to be an avenue that's getting explored in SUF(fering) as well as Steven's mounting emotional problems.

Compared to the Gem war, it's going to be different, but we might just get more information on the origins of Pink, the Diamonds and indeed the Gems in their entirety.

Here's hoping that it won't be too traumatising.

[spanishskulduggery]

Hi, is there an easy rule as for when to use el Subjuntivo?

I would say yes and no. There are easy parts of subjunctive, and there are more confusing parts of subjunctive. The subjunctive mood encompasses a lot, it’s like asking if there’s an easy rule for indicative and I’d be like “well maybe present tense is kind of up front about what it wants, but preterite/imperfect aren’t always easy to understand”… it’s like that.

The only mood that’s really easy to understand completely is the imperative [commands] because it’s “do it” or “don’t do it” and it’s a lot of conjugation and practice but it’s not like things change or get weird.

But subjunctive. Anything I try to explain about when it’s used is a big oversimplification so just bear with it because not everything perfectly lines up.

But in general there are maybe 5 or 6 general ways that present subjunctive is used, and I’ll explain them all in more detail:

Expressing desire/opinion/imposition of will/wish fulfillment and opinions based on emotional input

Subjunctive phrases

Subjunctive possibility

Ignorance, doubt, or disbelief

Politeness [and the subject of politeness also includes #6 which is “indirect commands” or “a politer way to ask someone to do something]

There’s also some overlap between them, because like I said it doesn’t all line up perfectly into little boxes or categories all the time. I’m also arranging them in order of things most needed to know before you go on to the next part.

Also please keep in mind this is specifically present subjunctive, but I will go over imperfect subjunctive a bit because there is some overlap but also imperfect subjunctive can be more particular.

When you’re talking subjunctive most people will lay out subjunctive in terms of #1 and that makes sense because it’s a good starting point. When you’re talking about subjunctive in this sense, it’s primarily made up of two causes with the first clause in some kind of indicative and then following it is a subjunctive clause.

The clauses are then normally connected with a que or sometimes there’s a de que or a que depending on the verb. Some verbs use specific prepositions, it’s not like the meaning is suddenly different exactly.

Quiero que pongas la mesa. = I want you to set the table.

The quiero is in present tense [indicative], while pongas is present subjunctive. This would be something like a desire or an imposition of will.

The yo wants tú to do something, and by imposing their will on that person. 

It can also be used impersonally [without a person, talking about an inanimate object]:

Ojalá que no llueva. = I hope (to God) that it doesn’t rain.

Espero que nieve. = I hope it snows. 

Deseo que haga buen tiempo. = I hope the weather’s nice. [lit. “I hope it makes good weather”]

These sorts of things sometimes cross into subjunctive possibility, but the idea is that you’re wishing or wanting something to happen, and the thing that is “to happen” is then in subjunctive.

In its base form, subjunctive is “someone wants something to happen” and it’s divided between “someone wants [indicative] + that/to [que] + to happen [subjunctive]

And in this form, it’s very important that there be two different subjects in two clauses. You CANNOT have subjunctive in this particular sense without it or it would come up as indicative:

Quiero que te vayas a dormir. = I want you to go to sleep.

Quiero irme a dormir. / Me quiero ir a dormir. = I want to go to sleep.

A yo cannot really “act on itself”… you’re just expressing a desire. It’s not an imposition of will if it isn’t someone else’s will… it’s just an expression of will.

So in other words “I want you to set the table” is a yo working influence over a tú. But quiero poner la mesa “I want to set the table” has no conflict of influence.

The next part is opinion and particularly emotional opinions. I say emotional since they’re usually done with words related to emotion, but what it really means is subjective. Subjective is subjunctive.

In other words someone/someone is “happy/sad/afraid/curious/scared/worried” that “something will happen”. They aren’t always emotions, but they can be done with subjective opinions like “important/interesting/curious” etc… It also includes me gusta(n) or me gustaría(n) though me gustaría normally indicates imperfect subjunctive.

These do sometimes exist with imperfect subjunctive because of things happening in the past but for the purposes of explaining these will all be in present subjunctive.

Me alegra que hayas venido. = I’m glad you could come.Me alegra que vengas. = I’m glad you’re coming.

Es triste que no sea así. = It’s sad it’s not like that.Es triste que diga eso. = It’s sad that he/she would say that.Me entristece que lo haga. = It saddens me that he/she/it would do that.

Es curioso que nadie quiera ir. = It’s curious/strange that no one would want to go.

Es importante que escuchen. = It’s important for them to listen.

Es interesante que lo menciones. = It’s interesting you mention it.

Qué bien que estés aquí. = I’m glad you’re here. [lit. “how nice (it is) that you’re here”]

There are times when people will use indicative instead of subjunctive, but predominantly subjunctive is the most applicable and polite.

#2 Subjunctive phrases is a very overarching kind of thing. It shows up in a lot of the other categories. But basically there are many words or expressions that generally (and sometimes always) indicate subjunctive. Some of these include…

a menos que = unless (something happens)

con tal (de) que = as long as (something happens)

hasta que = until (something happens)

a no ser que = unless (something happens)

antes (de) que = before (something happens)

después (de) que = after (something happens)

hacer que = to make (something do something else)

para que = so that (something could happen)

sin que = without (something happening)

tal vez / quizá = maybe

puede que = it might/could (be that)

ojalá* (que) = I hope to God / hopefully (something happens)

*I mentioned it before but ojalá is a word that literally means “I hope to God” or something like “God willing”. It comes from Arabic most likely something like “inshallah”, where “Allah” comes out as Alá in Spanish.

This list also includes es importante que, es curioso que, es triste que and others. There’s also no pensar/creer que which I’ll cover more in the part on doubt.

There are also verbs that generally imply subjunctive when used with a que

pedir que = to request that (something happen)

desear que = to desire/want that (something happen)

querer que = to want that (something happen)

obligar a que = to force/obligate (someone to do something)

exigir que = to demand that (something happen)

sugerir que = to suggest that (something happen)

mandar que = to order that (something happen)

lamentar que = to regret/lament that (something happened)

preferir que = to prefer that (something happen)

esperar que = to hope that (something happen)esperar a que = to wait until (something happens)

I should say that there are some phrases that ARE NOT ALWAYS subjunctive, depending on use. The big example of this is después que which can be subjunctive or indicative.

They make most sense in subjunctive when the thing hasn’t happened yet but still might. This is also going to use imperfect subjunctive because a lot of the indicative examples of them do happen in past tense. I will say that’s more common with después though.

Me voy a dormir después (de) que me llamen. = I’m going to bed after they call me.

In this case it makes sense to have subjunctive because it implies that the “they” hasn’t called yet. This crosses into possibility. There’s a possibility they won’t, or they might. But the yo doesn’t know when.

For indicative it would have to be after it had already happened:

después (de) que me llamaron = after they called me

While you do see something like después (de) que me llamaran which is imperfect subjunctive “after they had called me” or “after they would call me” it’s harder to translate without proper context.

Let’s just say that generally when it has already happened, it’s indicative for después.

#3 Possibility. This one is the hardest to explain because English’s subjunctive is conjugated like indicative, which makes it harder to spot in English when it is being used.

Possibility is somewhere between doubt and subjunctive phrases, but it means that it gets used with unlikely events. These are usually hypothetical situations or things that haven’t happened yet but might later on but you don’t know when.

Espero a que llegue el tren. = I’m waiting until the train arrives.

In this sense, you don’t know when the train will arrive, but it’s something like a possibility.

The most common one is puede que which is used as “might/could”:

Puede que llueva. = It might rain.

Puede que haga sol. = It might be sunny.

Puede que vayan a la playa. = They might go to the beach.

Puede que se queden en casa. = They might stay home.

Puede que tengas razón. = You might be right.

Puede que tengan hambre. = They might be hungry.

The use of puede que is kind of like a guess or a supposition.

You can also say puede que sí “it might” or puede que no “it might not” as complete sentences.

Possibilities like this can sometimes be translated with words involving -ever like “whenever”, “however”, “whoever/whomever”, “wherever”, “whatever”:

lo que sea = whatever

Sea lo que sea. = Be that as it may/were. / Whatever it is.

A quien corresponda… = To whom it concerns…

Quien lea esto… = Whoever reads this…A quien lea esto… = To whomever reads this…

dondequiera que estés = wherever you areadondequiera que vayas = wherever you go

como quieras = as you wish / whatever you sayHaz lo que quieras. = Do whatever you want.Haz lo que te dé la gana. = Do whatever you want.

en cuanto puedas = as soon as you can

pase lo que pase = come what may

Sometimes whether it’s indicative or subjunctive depends on your style or personal mood:

Cuando tienes tiempo… = When you have the time…

Cuando tengas tiempo… = Whenever you have the time…

Using subjunctive here just means that you’re kind of like “no rush” and you don’t expect them to get back to you very soon.

They can also be used in the sense of contrary to fact or denials of reality. This I find makes the most sense with aunque

When aunque is used with indicative it’s roughly “although”. When it’s subjunctive aunque is often “even if/though”

Aunque sean de piedra… = Even if they’re made of stone… / Though they be made of stone…

Aunque sea verdad… = Even if that is true…Aunque fuera verdad… = Even if that were true…

Aunque digas la verdad… = Even if you tell the truth…Aunque no digas/dijeras la verdad… = Even if you don’t tell the truth…

Aunque tengas razón… = Even if you’re right…

#4 Ignorance is kind of the same as those above, but it’s a little more straightforward. You don’t know what you don’t know, so ignorance or doubt or disbelief are uncertain by nature. It’s that uncertainty that makes things very easy to understand.

Dudo que sea así. = I doubt it’s like that.

Dudo que llueva. = I doubt it will rain.

Que yo sepa. = As far as I know. / To my knowledge…Que tú sepas. = As far as you know.Que ellos/ellas sepan. = As far as they know.Que nosotros/nosotras sepamos. = As far as we know. / To our knowledge…

A very common confusion exists with no creer and no pensar and no estar seguro/a, and their affirmative counterparts. But it’s very simple: firm beliefs and certainty and thoughts are indicative, and being unsure or uncertain or not believing are most often subjunctive:

pensar que = to think that + indicativeno pensar que = to not that thing + subjunctive

creer que = to believe that + indicativeno creer que = to not believe that + subjunctive

estar seguro/a (de) que = to be sure that + indicativeno estar seguro/a (de) que = to be unsure that / to not be certain that + subjunctive

The affirmatives show confidence, and the negatives show uncertainty:

Pienso que es importante. = I think it’s important.No pienso que sea importante. = I don’t think it’s important. / I don’t think it would be important.

Creo que es importante. = I believe it’s important.No creo que sea importante. = I don’t believe it’s important. / I don’t believe it would be important.

Estoy seguro/a (de) que es importante. = I’m sure it’s important.No estoy seguro/a (de) que sea importante. = I’m not sure if it’s important.

Basically the lesson is that your thoughts and beliefs when phrases affirmatively are indicative. English is a little wishy-washy in that we sometimes say “to think” in a more doubtful or uncertain way, but Spanish is very clear that it’s indicative unless you add a negative to it:

Pienso que no es posible. = I think that’s it’s not possible.

No pienso que sea posible. = I don’t think that’s possible.

#5 Politeness

There are times when you use subjunctive for politeness. I would say in general when you’re asking for something or ordering food, it’s normally fine to use present tense, and then if you want to be VERY painfully polite you can use conditional.

Subjunctive however is sometimes used to soften what might be considered too blunt or direct in indicative or imperative. This is how you get something like cuando tienes tiempo vs. cuando tengas tiempo, or something like si es posible vs. si sea posible

The subjunctive can imply a kind of uncertainty or deference in those situations, but that can sort of read as you being insecure or possibly insincere, like it’s possible to see subjunctive and read it as sarcastic… Sort of like “do what you want” can be turned into a more subjunctive “do whatever you want” and that can make a sharp distinction.

But since we kind of covered that already above, I’ll talk about subjunctive politeness in terms of what’s known as indirect commands.

An indirect command is a murky halfway point between subjunctive and imperative mood.

While imperative mood is affirmative or negative commands [“do it” vs. “don’t do it”], the subjunctive kind of takes any rough edges off of that. 

There are times, even when it’s polite, that a command might feel too direct. And there are also times when you’re wishing for something to happen on someone’s behalf, OR you’re asking someone to tell someone else to do something.

That last one is really the full definition of “indirect”:

Canten. = Sing. [plural; direct]

Diles que canten. = Tell them to sing. [di being the tú command of decir]Que canten. = Have them sing.

Instead of telling someone directly to “sing”, you can tell someone “hey, you go tell them to sing”… thus making it indirect.

The use of que + subjunctive is very common for indirect commands and it’s not always specifically politeness, but it reads as impersonal or indirect:

Que así sea. = So be it.

Que sean felices y coman perdices. = “And they lived happily ever after”.[lit. “may they be happy and eat partridges”, where partridges were the kind of thing a noble might eat so it’s like “let them be happy and be wealthy”]

Que no llueva. = I hope it doesn’t rain. / Let it not rain. / “Let’s hope it doesn’t rain”.

Que tengas un buen día. = Have a nice day. [tú]Que tenga un buen día. = Have a nice day. [formal]Que tengan un buen día. = Have a nice day. [plural]

Que haya luz. = Let there be light.Que exista luz. = Let there be light.

Indirect commands always use the subjunctive in these cases.

Also please note that present subjunctive can sometimes be read with a future kind of tone. It’s because present (even in indicative; especially in indicative) has a kind of declarative sense, and a kind of short-term future sense.

So there are times when you see present subjunctive used even though the translation uses something closer to how future tense would sound:

No me importa (lo) que digan. = I don’t care what they say. [present declarative]

No me importa (lo) que digan. = I don’t care what they’re going to say. [short-term future]*no me importa lo que digan is also correct

This is also more generally present subjunctive because it comes across as “what they may (or may not) say”.

In general subjunctive isn’t so difficult once you’re able to recognize the different situations and scenarios that require subjunctive. It’s only really confusing when there are times when you can use either indicative or subjunctive and they change the implied meaning... not enough to change the ENTIRE meaning, but enough to add certain nuances.

It can be like walking a tightrope but when you get more experience, subjunctive isn’t as hard and daunting as it is when you first come across it.

[imperfect subjunctive to follow at a later date]

[femnet]

The first time I heard of C-PTSD was on the website outofthefog, which is a site that lists symptoms of personality disorders and abusive behaviour (although you’re not inherently abusive just because you have a personality disorder). At the time I had just overcome a big depression and realised that it was the result of being emotionally abused by my father since childhood. Since I was passionate about psychology and desired to know how exactly being abused had impacted and could impact my life, I had started researching the signs of being abused (and could tick yes to almost 100 signs and abuse techniques my father had used on me).

I knew there were consequences, such as my chronic low self-esteem, my fear of making any sort of mistake and my co-dependency in relationships with emotionally unavailable partners who would trigger anxiety and crying spells. PTSD did not really fit as I did not have flashbacks or any of the classic symptoms. For a while, I thought it could be BPD as quite a few symptoms fit me, like the fear of abandonment and the chronic emptiness and low self-esteem. But it still felt like something was missing. Then I found a link about C-PTSD, which is the complex form of PTSD, and reading through the symptoms and risks of onset, the lightbulb turned on. This was it! I mentioned it to my therapist, who said something in the likes of “duh, of course you have C-PTSD” and the rest is history.

Or so I wish it was.

Complex PTSD is a still relatively unknown and under-researched condition and is still not part of the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition (DSM-5), or in the World Health Organization’s (WHO) International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, 10th Edition (ICD-10). It is sometimes misdiagnosed as BPD because symptoms can overlap. While both PTSD and C-PTSD occur after traumatic events, PTSD typically occurs after “short-lived” traumas. C-PTSD, on the other hand, occurs after repeated instances of traumatic events, in which there is limited to no chance of escape, and distorts the victim’s view of themselves and of the world. C-PTSD is common in cases of childhood abuse, be it sexual, emotional, physical or in cases of long-held captivity.

Mine came from repeated instances of abuse from my dad, who belittled, gaslit, and guilt-tripped me (among other things) for not complying with his over the top emotional needs, or for even disagreeing with him. I remember him being all nice all evening and then calling me an ungrateful and undeserving daughter whom he had no business loving unless I did exactly what he wanted. Needless to say, my self-esteem and my sense of identity took a massive hit because of it.

Symptoms of C-PTSD include, according to the NHS’ website:

·         feelings of shame or guilt

·         difficulty controlling your emotions

·         periods of losing attention and concentration – this is known as dissociation

·         physical symptoms – such as headaches, dizziness, chest pains and stomach aches

·         cutting yourself off from friends and family

·         relationship difficulties

·         destructive or risky behaviour – such as self-harm, alcohol misuse or drug abuse

·         suicidal thoughts

In my case, the most prevalent symptoms are the chronic feelings of shame and guilt, my high-running emotions and relationship difficulties. The destructive behaviour seems to come in the form of chronic procrastination because I feel like I can’t, or am not worth trying to, reach for my goals or better my life. I am emotionally co-dependent and would get way too attached, way too fast to unhealthy partners, because I wanted someone to love me and prove my dad wrong. Yeah, that didn’t work.

How do I cope? Therapy, when I can access it. Otherwise, I try to push myself to do things that are out of my comfort zone to prove to myself that I can do things that scare me and succeed. My biggest triggers are within relationships, so if I don’t have fights with my partner, I am relatively okay. But when there is a fight or the slightest change in tone or behaviour, I spiral downwards very fast.

I don’t know if I’ll ever recover and get rid of the C-PTSD, but I am trying to take steps to keep it manageable and work on developing healthy coping mechanisms. And I cut off my dad, which is probably the boldest thing I have ever done. And over a year later, working with my therapist and myself, I can honestly say it has changed my life. My C-PTSD is still alive and well, but I have made massive progress – if I may toot my own horn. I am still deeply afraid of abandonment and I get triggered very easily in any relationship, but I have now found someone who understands it and provides me with the love and reassurance I need, which helps me control my triggers. I have survived and thrived without my father for almost two years, and have accomplished things without his help that I am very proud of. And not having him harass me has given me more inner peace and self-esteem than I’d ever imagined.

I’m not quite there yet, but I’m on my way.

[feverflushed]

Writing PTSD, a brief guide

-PTSD (Post-traumatic stress disorder), is a mental disorder that may develop after the exposure to a violent or traumatic event, such as war, sexual assault, traffic accident, witnessing a violent death, natural disasters etc. Symptoms can pop up months or even years later.

-Let's start with the most common, most known symptom: flashbacks. They are invasive memories, sensory experiences in which the past and the present "overlap". Flashbacks can be triggered by basically everything: words, situations, places, noises, even certain smells or tastes! The patient feels like the traumatic event is happening all over again, thus experiencing fear, anxiety or anger. Flashback can feel extremely real, to the point of hearing sounds, smelling or tasting the same things people heard, smelled or tasted during the traumatic event. Somebody stuck in a flashback may have fast, shallow breathing, may have a 'stiff' posture or tremors, may be unfocused or may have trouble differentiating the invasive memory from the reality. Flashbacks can last from a few seconds (most common occurrence), to longer periods of time. A person having a flashback may experience some degree of dissociation.

-Nightmares are another important factor in ptsd. Patients tend to experience distressing nightmares, often related to the shocking event. These nightmares tend to scare the sufferers to the point that they may be afraid of falling asleep, and may lead to a disrupted sleeping schedule or cause the onset of insomnia or other sleep related conditions.

-This is one thing that I see very rarely in fics involving ptsd: increased flight-or-fight response. The great majority of ptsd sufferers will recognize themselves in this description. Basically, your mind is always stuck on the traumatic event, and this puts your brain in a state of constant alert. It's like having bells ringing and red lights flashing in your head all the time. Every little thing is enough to put your brain into overdrive. A door slamming? WAS THAT A GUNSHOT? A car honking? WE'RE GONNA DIE IN A CAR CRASH! Your cat jumping unexpectedly on your lap? A PHYSICAL ATTACK, SOMEBODY CAME TO MURDER ME!

Literally, every little, unexpected thing is enough to make the sirens in your head go off.

This is why people with ptsd tend to be overly jumpy, nervous and easily scared by sudden movements or noises. Something as innocent as a touch to the shoulder is enough to make them jump in fear.

-Sufferers may have extreme mood swigs, often feeling extremely depressed or angry.

-Some people with ptsd tend to develop unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as exceeding in alcohol consumption, substance abuse and self-harming.

-Psychotherapy is the best solution. Besides traditional medication, some people have experienced good results with alternative techniques, such as art therapy and emdr.